From Pauper To Princess
by Gamer-Otaku Takara
Summary: The rebel princess is dead. Logan continued to rule unopposed...and now, centuries after the Crawler descended upon Albion, the kingdom is in shambles. To prevent this, Theresa must call upon Irikah, Logan's descendant. But can she overcome her shattered soul and save the world? Can she become a Hero? She may need a devilishly handsome soldier to help her out. Ben Finn/OC
1. Prologue

Bowerstone was always busy. Cars constantly filled the streets, people shuffled along the sidewalks, and stall vendors and shopkeepers hollered from the sidelines, trying to entice people into buying their goods.

This was the city he was trying to pass through. Running a hand through his dirty-blonde hair, he scowled at the gate to his country's capital. Luckily, he wouldn't be staying in the city—no, his destination was on the other side of the market, on the outskirts of Bowerstone Industrial. His travels had made him weary, so he decided it was time to visit his old home, to see the woman he's loved since he was a child.

The two of them weren't together. No, her thoughts were always consumed by others… His hand wandered to his pocket. His fingers brushed the object there, but he didn't squeeze it. One wrong touch, and the whole gate would be blown to bits. Those little…parasites that took up _his_ woman's time and attention were driving him over the edge. She was _his_. No one else's…

And it was time her eyes were opened.


	2. Chapter 1

**NOTICE: If you have not seen the prologue yet, go back and read it! I just added it...it should shed some light on the whole Damon** **thing.**

**Hey there, readers! This is your author speaking. This is my first (published) Fable fanfiction. I've recently developed a (coughcoughCREEPYcough) fangirl crush on none other than Captain Benjamin Finn, and became rather upset when I realized you couldn't marry him. So, I decided to make a Ben Finn romance of my own!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fable III or it's characters (sob), and I also don't own the song "Run" by P!nk. The former is owned by Lionhead Studios, and the latter is owned by...well, P!nk. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

July was unbearably hot.

It was always so at Bowerstone Orphanage. The children would play in the small yard, but come inside twenty minutes later, sweating and begging for water. Chores would be done just a bit slower, everyone pausing by a fan or air conditioner at every given opportunity. The roof, where the older inhabitants tended to gather, was the hottest of all, taking the brunt of the sun's unforgiving rays for hours on end.

This was where she sat. Under the shadow of a ragged porch swing, the cover shielding her pitch-black locks and tanned skin from the sunlight. Her crystal blue eyes blinked slowly, long legs swinging as she rocked herself back and forth.

"Irikah!"

A masculine voice called out, and she perked up at the sound of her name. A tall boy with dirty-blonde hair and deep blue eyes jogged in her direction, lean-muscled arms exposed from his white tank top. His skin was lighter than hers, without managing to be pale. He faced her with a stunning, pearly-white smile, making her heart beat faster.

"Damon." She greeted him with a close-lipped smile, raising a delicate eyebrow at his sudden appearance.

"I figured I'd find you up here. You do realize it's over 90 degrees outside, right?" He stared down at her, matching her raised-brow expression in a mocking manner.

"Says the man who willingly followed me out here." Irikah stood up and folded her arms across her chest, smirking up at him. She and Damon had been close for as long as she could remember…well, almost. When she first came to the orphanage, Irikah was what you would call a loner. She isolated herself from the other children, hardly ever speaking to anyone, until a cheerful eight-year-old named Damon bounded up to her, pulling her out of her corner and spinning her around. He didn't say a word, just did a hilarious little dance with her. Her poor six-year-old self had no idea what to do, so she just let him spin her around and around…until he finally stopped, held out his tiny hand, and said, "My name's Damon! Nice to meet you!"

That was probably around the time she started falling for him.

"Well, I had to make sure my little loner-girl wasn't getting fried!" Damon chuckled, winking at her. His wink caused heat to rise to her cheeks, but she covered it up by rolling her eyes and shoving him playfully. "Oh, don't be that way—you know you love it when I call you that!" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh. He always knew how to make her laugh.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Damon," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. But despite her words, she really did love it. It made her feel special, when he came up with nicknames just for her.

"That isn't the only thing keeping me up at night." Damon gave her a smoldering smirk, making her blush return full-force.

"Shut up, you perv!" Irikah huffed, smacking his arm. Damon had always been a bit of a womanizer. He'd been a shameless flirt since they were children, but she was used to it. In fact, she found it a little funny.

"Iri! Iri!" A small, high-pitched voice squealed behind Damon, and a little girl with long, curly brown hair came barreling towards her, a ginger-haired boy hot on her heels. The girl jumped into Irikah's arms, cheeks flushed and eyes squeezed shut as she pointed at the boy. "Tommy won't stop pulling my hair!"

Irikah sighed. "Again…?" She gave Tommy a stern look. "Thomas, go stand in the corner." He looked up at her with bright green puppy-eyes.

"But Matron…"

"Butts are for sitting. Now go do as I say, or no ice cream after dinner tonight." Tommy huffed, pouting as he turned away, walking back into the orphanage. Irikah then smiled at the girl. "There now, Olivia. We'll make a gentleman out of him yet." Olivia giggled, clinging to Irikah's leg after the 26 year old set her down. …You must have thought that Irikah was still one of the children in the orphanage, right? Well, that isn't entirely untrue. She was, when she was a kid. But after witnessing the terror of being adopted, Irikah decided to remain at the orphanage and be a permanent helper. The former owner died when she was 17, and left the children in her care. Damon had stayed with her for a while (he had an aversion to foster parents as well), but when he turned 21, he decided to become a wanderer and travel around Albion. He would stop in every now and then, but Irikah worried about him and missed him terribly every day he was gone. After all…Albion could be a very dangerous place.

It used to be a prosperous land, this country of hers—or so historians claimed. But during the reign of King Logan I, everything fell apart. He was a tyrant, forcing children to work, raising taxes beyond imagining, ruthlessly eradicating opposition…he might have been overthrown, but the leader of the would-be rebellion was killed. Things only went downhill from there. Bandits and monsters ran about virtually unchecked, crime was at an all-time high, people lived in utter poverty, and if Irikah were to believe the legends, a terrible "darkness" invaded Albion, slaughtering nearly everyone, and supposedly left the country to watch it wither in the chaos that ensued. But then again…who trusted legends? There weren't nearly as many people alive now than there was then, but it would be irrational to blame it on some evil creature from a horror story.

"You have a way with the little ones, don't you?" Damon's voice pulled Irikah out of her musings. She patted Olivia's head and gave him a half-smirk.

"Well, I would certainly hope so. My job would be rather difficult otherwise."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Olivia tugged on her shirt. "Iri, will you play Heroes and Bandits with me?"

"Heroes and Bandits, eh?" She smiled. "Of course. I love that game."

"Yay! I'll be the Hero, and you be the bandit!"

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent running all around the orphanage, Olivia throwing imaginary fireballs as Irikah chased her with a toy sword. Damon even joined in, becoming a bandit, and eventually, all the other children became part of the game as well. Olivia was the lead Hero, while Irikah led the group of little bandits. It was a child's game, but Irikah enjoyed spending time with the kids like this. But time flies when you're having fun, and before they knew it, both the good guys and the bad guys had finished dinner, and it was time for bed. All ten of the tiny residents were snuggled up under their sheets, Damon standing in the doorway as Irikah tucked them in, kissing each of them on the forehead.

"You were all very good today," she praised. "As a reward, we'll go to Bower Lake tomorrow, alright?" They all cheered in response. Bower Lake was their favorite place to visit.

"Matron?"

Irikah turned her gaze to the blonde girl who called out to her. "Yes, Sophie?"

"…Do you think I'll ever be a Hero someday?"

Irikah blinked in surprise at the question. Heroes were mighty warriors in all the great fables. They were masters of Strength and Skill, able to wield hammers or swords, and pistols or rifles as though they were extensions of their own bodies. They were the only people in the entire world with the ability to use Will, or magic, and their prowess was unmatched. They were the stuff of legends, but that's all they were—legends. Nevertheless, she gave Sophie a grin. "If you want it and are willing to work for it, then you can accomplish anything." That seemed to satisfy the girl, and after resounding choruses of "Goodnight! Love you!", Irikah laughed, kissed them all on the forehead again, and started to follow Damon out of the room.

"Wait!"

She whirled around at the sound of Chris's voice. The shy little black-haired boy pulled his sheets over his nose to cover his embarrassed face. "Will you…will you sing to us?" The other children nodded and grinned, bringing a big smile to Irikah's face.

"Certainly. Any song in particular you want to hear?"

"Run!" they cried in unison. That seemed to be a favorite of theirs, and it was a favorite of hers as well. Irikah glanced at Damon, who was smiling, and took a seat next to Olivia's bed. She didn't notice the dark look that replaced Damon's smile…

_"Remember make-believe in you.  
All the things I said I'd do,  
Wouldn't hurt you like the world did me.  
Keep you safe, I'd keep you sweet.  
Everything that I went through,  
I'm grateful you won't have to do.  
I know that you will have to fall,  
I can't hide you from it all._

_"Take the best of what I got,  
And then you know, no matter what,  
Before you walk away…_

_"You know you can run, run, run,  
Back to my arms, back to my arms!  
Run, run, run, back to my arms,  
And they will hold you down."_

Irikah sang softly, the gentle tone of her voice already lulling most of the children to sleep. She continued nonetheless, skipping straight to the end.

_"All this time, I swear I'll never waste it,  
All your smiles, I'm always gonna save them.  
Put it in the back of my mind,  
Whenever I'm away from you!"_

She looked down to see Olivia sleeping soundly, the last of them to fall asleep. A motherly smile formed on her face at the sight.

"Irikah?" Damon whispered to her. She looked up at him. "Can you follow me for a bit? There's something I want to talk to you about." Her brow furrowed. He couldn't have talked to her about it earlier? It must be important…

"Sure…but, who will keep an eye on the kids?"

He shrugged. "It's alright, we won't be long." Nodding, Irikah stood up and followed him out, whispering goodnight to the kids before shutting the door.

"Where are we going?" she wondered as they made their way towards the front door.

"Just…outside," he replied. Her brow furrowed. That was rather vague. Damon was usually a very straightforward person. And there was something about his tone that…didn't quite sit right with her. She caught a glimpse of his pistol laying by the door. She didn't know why, and perhaps she never would, but she picked it up and stuck it under the waistband of her shorts, using her shirt to cover it. If Damon noticed, he didn't show it, leading her through the grass in silence. As the distance between them and the orphanage grew, so did her uneasiness. He said they wouldn't be long, but…being far away from the children she was responsible for made her anxious. Bandits and mercenaries were still a huge problem in Albion…and although they never had a problem with them before, there was always a first time for everything. "Okay, let's stop here," Damon said suddenly. He turned around to face her, and she could've sworn she saw a tattoo on the top of his spine. Was that…? She stopped herself from finishing that thought. She knew Damon. He wouldn't do something like that. Still, she found herself getting nervous. The moon shone on his back, casting eerie shadows over his face and body.

"What did you want to talk about?" Irikah asked, stomach flipping when he took a step towards her.

He tilted his head, eyes flashing. "…I've noticed the way you've been looking at me lately," he said simply. "You have feelings for me…don't you?" There was the straightforward Damon she knew…now, if he could only go back to being cheerful and flirty instead of creepy… He took a step towards her, making her heart beat faster and forcing her to take a step back.

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Don't lie to me, Irikah." Suddenly, he was inches away from her, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. What had gotten into him? This was the first time she'd ever seen him act so strangely. "Do you love me?" he asked softly.

Irikah frowned. "Damon, what's going on? You're scaring me…"

"You don't have to stay in that suffocating orphanage anymore." He towered over her. "Let's run away together. We can travel the world, maybe even join a gang…" A smirk formed on his face, the shadows the moon cast giving him a sinister appearance.

"You know I could never do that," she protested. Her heart rammed against her ribcage, and she found her hand wandering to the pistol at her side. "Those kids mean everything to me, I'd never leave them behind."

"So if they weren't around, you would come with me?" Damon's smirk widened, a mad glint in his eyes that made Irikah's blood run cold. She was definitely getting scared now. "I was actually hoping you would say that." He took her hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "They won't be a problem much longer."

"What are you talking about? I don't understand…"

**_BOOM!_**

An earth-shaking explosion flared up from somewhere behind her. She whirled around, wrenching her hand away from him, only to stumble back with a gasp at the sight she was met with.

The orphanage was in flames.

Irikah let out a scream and lunged towards her home, but Damon put an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. "Let me go! They're in danger!" she shrieked, shoving him away with all her might. She didn't even look back at him, the only thought running through her mind was saving the children. She could hear them screaming, the roaring sounds of the fire getting louder the closer she came. Irikah stopped before the engulfed and utterly destroyed building, all the blood draining from her face as she witnessed everything she had ever known crumbling before her. "No…" she whispered. "No!" Her voice grew louder. "No, no, no, no, _no_!" She fell to her knees, unbidden tears streaming from her bright blue eyes.

"It's better this way."

She slowly turned her head, staring up at Damon with wide, incredulous eyes as he put a hand on her shoulder. "We can be together now," he said with a small smile. "Nothing will get in our way. I love you, Irikah. I've loved you for so long…"

A wave of nausea washed over her, and she climbed to her feet, limbs shaking violently. "You," she choked out, "You did this?"

His smile widened. "Sorry, love. I wish it hadn't come to this, but you left me no choice…"

"How could you?" Irikah demanded, her voice low, fury radiating from her trembling body. "Why would you do this, Damon?! They were children! _Children_!"

"They were in the way," he said with a shrug, no remorse in his cold blue eyes. He looked confused. "I thought you loved me. Don't you want to start a life with me? Nothing's holding you back now."

Irikah's hand flew to her hip, and she pulled out Damon's pistol. "You're bloody insane," she growled, pointing the gun at his head in a shaky manner. "You murdered innocent children! You're no better than a bandit!" Her face paled even further when a realization struck her. That tattoo on the back of his neck…there was no denying it now. He really was a bandit!

"Travel changes people, love," he said, putting his hands up. He eyed the gun nervously. "You wouldn't shoot me, would y—"

Her finger closed around the trigger.

A shot rang through the air. Irikah watched, eyes dull and face blank, as Damon's body fell limply to the ground, a pool of blood forming around his head. "Don't call me that," she spat coldly.

Then, suddenly, a small voice reached her ears. Irikah's heart skipped a beat. Could it be…? The pistol fell from her grasp, and she ran desperately towards the still-burning building, hope flaring in her chest. "Hello?!" she yelled. "Where are you?! Call out to me, sweetheart!"

"Iri…?" She heard a pitiful cough. "I'm over here…" A small body caught her eye, and she knelt next to it without hesitation.

The sight before her dashed any hope she had.

The voice that called out to her was Olivia's. Her tiny form lay, unmoving, on the ground, her nightgown singed and her thin body covered in burns. But that wasn't even the worst part. A sharp, narrow piece of wood was sticking out of her chest, dangerously close to her heart, blood darkening the area around it. "Oh, Avo," Irikah sobbed, taking Olivia's limp body gently in her arms.

"It hurts, Iri," Olivia whimpered.

"I know, darling." Tears spilled over her cheeks. "It's alright. I'm here…I'm right here…" Her hands shook again as the little girl's blood stained her lap.

"It's hard to see," Olivia continued. "It hurts to breathe…" She looked up at Irikah with eyes full of terror. "Am I dying? Am I…am I going to meet my parents in heaven?" Irikah held her close, cradling her, unable to respond. "I don't wanna go yet," Olivia rasped. "I wanna stay with you…"

"I'm sorry," Irikah said softly. Her cheeks were soaked with tears. "I'm so, so sorry…I should've been here…I never should have left you guys here alone…" More sobs racked her body, and her heart ached when she saw the light slowly leaving the girl's eyes.

"You're the…the best mommy anyone could ask for." Her chest struggled to rise, lungs struggling to take in air. "I love you…"

"I love you too, baby. I love all of you so very much…" Irikah rocked back and forth as Olivia breathed her last, dull eyes straying up to the night sky, devoid of life.

That was when she screamed.

She screamed and wailed and cried for what seemed like hours, still cradling the child against her chest, shedding more tears than she ever had, even when her parents died. The screams of the other children had quieted before she even got there…none of them were left. After a while, though, the tears stopped flowing, and she simply sat there, staring at nothing. Everything she ever loved had been destroyed within minutes, and it left her…empty. Her limbs felt numb. Her eyes were puffy and blank. Irikah laid Olivia's body on the ground, holding out a trembling hand and closing the young girl's eyes, which used to be so bright and full of happiness. "I'm sorry," she repeated in a whisper.

Suddenly, her world became black and gray. Irikah slowly raised her head, feeling nothing—not even surprise—when she saw a red-and-tan robed woman standing in front of a blinding white, circular design of light, hands clasped in front of her. A hood covered her face, but pale blue eyes without pupils glowed underneath. The woman spoke, her voice low and solemn. "You have experienced a great tragedy today, Irikah."

"Who are you?" Irikah asked quietly.

"My name is Theresa. I am a blind seer, a guide to the Heroes of Old."

"What do you want with me?" she wondered in a monotone voice. Theresa gestured to the now-frozen scene before them.

"What happened here was a catastrophe. A terrible event that could have been prevented." She paused. "Centuries ago, a tyrant led Albion to its own destruction. King Logan I. If he had been overthrown, if someone stronger had taken his place, this future you live in would have turned out quite differently. But before a revolution could begin, the rebel leader—Logan's younger sister—was killed, allowing his destructive reign to continue. Something must be done to prevent this."

"What does that have to do with me?" Irikah demanded, a scowl forming on her face.

"You are a descendent of King Logan, the last Hero bloodline in existence. The blood of a Hero flows through your veins, and a Hero is the only one who can save the past…and in turn, the future." Theresa stared intently down at her. "Albion needs you, Irikah."

Irikah looked back at the orphanage. It was in ruins…the children were dead…there was nothing there for her anymore. And if there was even the slightest chance that overthrowing the "King Logan" would prevent this from ever happening…then she was willing to lead a rebellion in a princess's stead. She didn't believe in Heroes, but what did she have to lose? She looked at Theresa, eyes hardening with determination. "What do I need to do?"

"Step through this portal and fulfill your destiny…Princess." The seer disappeared, leaving Irikah to cautiously approach the intricately-designed portal…

And when she reached it, her vision went dark.


End file.
